


VIM Means Life Force

by 214782KAZ2Y5



Series: Nothing You Can Do [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Logan, Don't worry, F/M, Women Being Awesome, although you won't see it until like chapter eight, but then i have more, eventual avengers, i finally decided to write it down, i'm so proud of this power i came up with, i've been writing this in my head for the past three years, they'll be here near the end, tops, weird mutant oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/214782KAZ2Y5/pseuds/214782KAZ2Y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of a suddenly amnesiac mutant superhero ... It’s less cliche than it sounds.<br/>(Begins during the start of X2. Semi-movie!verse. Zoe is around 24)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And I Wake Up

Her eyelids stuck together, and when she could finally yank them open, silver was all she could see. But it wasn’t the silver of her . . . something. She knew there was supposed to be something silver above her, but not like this. It seemed to have patches of light in it, and the silver itself seemed to glow. Reflecting.

_where am I?_

Realizing she was lying on a cold metal table, she furrowed her brow and sighed. This was new, unpleasant, and uncomfortable. She wanted to get out of here. This seemed wrong.

_but first, find a shirt._

Only a thin sheet of sorts was covering her. A few electrodes were stuck to her head, her neck, and her chest. She lifted her hand up near her neck, yanked some of the sticky cords off her chest and started to move into a sitting position.

_gotta keep moving._

Her right arm brushed her side. Stitches. A rushing wildfire of pain burst through her, making her gasp. Her hands grabbed the edge of the table, and she pulled her arms tighter to keep the sheet from falling, and it made her side sting. After a few deep breaths and a nauseous feeling, a voice broke through the ebbing pain along with the sound of a door shutting. She hadn’t heard one open.

“So. You’re awake. Are ya alright?” A gruff voice asked.

_if he had been here to contain me, injure, or just check up on me, he wouldn’t have been so relaxed that I had moved._ A large warm hand was place on her bare back.

“Fine,” she groaned. She could hear him sigh.

“Good. You’re one of those people who go with it. You got no idea how bad it hurts me when people freak and start yellin’.”

“Well, I’m glad my pain is keeping me from doing anything to inconvenience you.” The sarcasm in her voice was obvious.

“You may want to lie down. It’ll help the pain. Besides, until Jeannie says we can put something on ya without messing these up,” he said, apparently gesturing at her side, “I won’t be able to concentrate fully on anything.” A grin made its way through the words.

She turned her head to glare at the stranger, an “oh, piss off” on her lips, when her breath caught in her throat. The guy was handsome, no doubt about that. He had dark hair, sideburns, a nice five o’clock shadow, and clear hazel eyes. His breath smelled of cigar smoke, clearly because of the cigar he’d just lit. Buff shoulders were covered by a motorcycle jacket overlapping a blue muscle tee. He must’ve seen her intake of breath, because his grin widened.

He walked around to the front of the table, and sauntered over to one of the machines placed around the room. Self-consciously, she pulled the sheet closer and continued removing electrodes from her neck and chest.

“If Jeannie asks about those, I didn’t see anything,” he broke off. “No, Chuck, just tell Jean she’s awake, and to get down here, will ya? I’m talking to her, yeah, she’s workin’ right. Okay.” The man looked over at her. “What’s your name?”

She was about to retort, but an unexpected thought hit her. Her eyes widened.

“What?” He questioned, a bit of concern in his voice. “I. . . I don’t remember.” She looked down, trying to will the thought to the front of her brain.

“Can’t remember? You must’ve hit your head harder than we thought on the way down. Chuck’ll explain. He can probably help you get your memory back.” He lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes, just for a second. “In the meanwhile, I’ll need something to call you.” He grabbed a chair from the corner of the room, and sat down facing her side of the examination table. Taking in the black hair, blue-green eyes, and high cheekbones, he solved his problem; “Zoe. You look like a Zoe.”

“Flirting with the patients, Logan?” A woman with short-cropped dark red hair walked in. She smiled at the darker haired girl. In her hands was a piece of white fabric.

“That was one time,” Logan said teasingly. She pinked, but her smile brightened just the same. “I brought something for you to wear that won’t affect the stitches. That was a nasty cut you received,” the stranger informed her. “I’m Jean.”

“Nice to meet you?”

“If only the circumstances weren’t so unfortunate. Here we go. Logan either turn around, or leave. You need to get dressed,” she said, directing her last sentence at Zoe. The three quarter sleeved shirt was dark red with a white phoenix print. It would’ve looked really cool if not for the ripped pattern at the bottom, so honestly, it looked stupid. It was helpful though because on either side was a strip of loose screening, that covered but did not affect the stitches. It was ridiculous, but admittedly very comfy.

“Hey, Zoe. You okay?”

“Logan, I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good.”

“Well, it hurts a bit. Can we please stop talking while I’m half-naked, it’s weird. I don’t even know you.” She could almost hear Logan thinking ‘But Jeannie gets to’. “Jean doesn’t have a dick.”

“I’m sorry?” The man’s voice was confused beyond belief.

“That’s why you can’t turn around. I could practically taste you thinking it.”

The man laughed. “I’m gonna like you.” He said, and some of his tension eased. Not that Zoe saw anything. After a few seconds of silence, Jean quietly started speaking again.

“You have to be a bit patient with Logan,” the doctor advised. “After all, he was the one who found you, lying on the ground, in the pronate position, bleeding. I don’t know the whole story, just that you had a massive concussion, apparent amnesia, severe internal bleeding, three cracked, four broken ribs, this cut on your side, and a whole slew of other afflictions. The list goes on. Logan’s just worried about you.” The redhead whispered.

“Really?”

“Of course. He’s been in here for the past three weeks, waiting for you to wake up. Charles, “Chuck,” had to force him to leave to get food three days in.” Jean confided.

“Three days.” Zoe glanced at the man who had his back to her, fidgeting uncontrollably.

“Can I turn around now?” Logan sounded anxious.

_don’t forget about my hearing, Jeannie. I don’t like hearing you talk about me behind my back. Unless it’s all good things._

_i was just alerting her to her condition._

“If you want to. Normally, I would just be upset that the electrodes came off before I got here, but now I’m just glad you’re okay.”

_what do you think? Healing factor?_

_how else do ya explain it? Four broken ribs, right? Jagged edges, everything? I’ve seen the X-Rays, they’re barely fractured now._

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

"I guess its Zoe," she semi-teased, throwing Logan a smile. Jean paused, a slightly blank look on her face. "Jean?"

"Oh, I see." What?

The man -Logan- must've caught her confusion because he launched into an explanation with a surprising amount of enthusiasm for someone so seemingly the “strong-silent type”.

"I'm guessin', that you're a mutant." Logan paused, waiting for confirmation. “It’s okay, we won’t judge ya. Don’t worry about it.” After a quick hesitant nod of her head, he continued. "Well, we are too. Everyone here is."

"Really?! You’re...” She thought for a second, “Where is here?"

Jean answered, "The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. A mainly K-12 school built especially for children with abilities like we have. Along with history and mathematics, you learn mutant/human relations, and how to control your powers.” The two mutants gave her a moment to sink in.

"I've never heard of it before."

"We take special precaution to make sure you don't. Not all the parents of kids here are mutant friendly, if you can understand that." Zoe had a feeling she knew exactly what they were talking about.

"So, if you're both mutants, what can you do?" An unbiased curiosity shone through her eyes unveiling innocence and happiness at being free without having to hide.

"I am a . . . telepathic telekinetic." Jean's breathy laugh was joined by an almost giggle from Zoe. "Let me show you." She jerked the chair out from under Logan's butt, and he hit the floor. Hard. Zoe laughed loudly as Jean levitated the chair at around eye-level and guided it under her own butt. The girl then groaned as the pain came back through the laugh.

"I could have . . . so much fun with that," she breathed. Logan grinned as he stood, and rubbed his ass, shooting a half-hearted scowl at the doctor. “Try not to make me laugh though. It hurts,” she added, groaning a bit more. Catching her breath she turned to Logan, "And you?" Logan raised an eyebrow and made a fist.

Metal spikes rapidly protruded from Logan's knuckles; it looked like it hurt. Zoey blinked in surprise.

_i didn’t know mutants could do that. Metal?_

_Charles would explain, but I think he’ll leave it to Logan. It’s personal. Sorry for the invasion of privacy, I just thought you’d be smart enough to recognize what most don’t._

Jean’s voice echoed a bit. She was going to have to get used to that. After a quick glance at the telepath, she looked up at the man with curiosity and delight in her eyes.

"Cool mutation, it’s really sweet." She said, smiling happily. The ex-soldier had no response, an odd sight for Jean. The telepath supposed it was because everyone else had taken Wolverine's ability and, at least to start, had only seen the danger to it, or had been afraid, whereas Zoe had immediately seen the beauty, and for lack of word, creativity. The woman stood up, resulting in a dizzy spell.

_whoa._

Jean moved quickly and was suddenly holding her arm, guiding her to where she wanted to go. Logan. The man's claws started to retract as he grabbed for her other arm.

"No. I'm good. I just want to see them."

"See what?"

"Your claws." The feral blinked in surprise, but released the blades again anyway. Slowly moving so as not to make herself nauseated for the third time, Zoe reached out a hand towards Logan and grabbed a hold of his wrist. She carefully moved it so she was staring down the blades. Gingerly she touched the tip of the middle one. Zoe ran the pads of her fingertips down the edge of the left, while innocently scrutinizing the right.

Logan probably would’ve found the situation uncomfortable, if not for two reasons; A) she was tall, probably 5’10 so it wasn’t as physically numbing as it would’ve been otherwise and B) he was too busy being turned on. it was possible he had never seen something so hot in the past 15 years he remembered.

Or all time.

That was possible too.

Damn.

Zoey pushed her finger into the blade a bit harder than she intended and hissed. She jerked her hand to her chest and sucked on the tip. A chorus of ‘Are you alright?’s met her ears.

"Yeah, I'm good. Great, really, just cut myself." She could see Logan's shoulders sink a little, and the adamantium quickly retracted. "Hey," she told him, looking him in the eyes. "It was my fault. I didn't realize how sharp they are, I pressed too hard. My fault. Okay?"

“Kay.”

“Hey, I’m serious, Logan. Don’t you dare beat yourself up about this. My fault.”

"Okay, okay, no need to get sharp with me." Crickets.

“. . . . . . . . . . . . . . That was terrible. You are terrible." Jean laughed loudly.

“Listening to you two bicker is going to become my favorite pastime.” She leaned in to help Zoe walk, “Come on Zoe; let's get you to the Professor."

Walking out of the silver room into a silver hallway, slowly, because she was still dizzy, Zoe asked: "What can he do?"

"Chuck's telepathic too."

"But he's a lot more powerful than I am, telepathically."

“And older.” Logan added.

"Could he make Logan believe he's suddenly become a Disney princess?"

A grin was forming. "I like the way you think. And yes, he could."

"Only if he wants to die."

Zoe paused, looking up the silver hallway at the room full of odd leather suits, and anticipated her arrival there. "I think I'm gonna like it here."


	2. Hey There Charles

She left a room made of silver, down the hallway, and was allowed to glance curiously at the large circular thing at the end of the hallway which she’d been told led to a “Ceribero” whatever that was. She was in the glowing room with the leather-looking suits, and had been informed these were what they wore when they went out to save the world. She’d had fun envisioning Logan in these tight leather suits, but the moment had passed.

“Why do you guys save the world? Don’t the Avengers to do that?” She had asked.

“Not against Magneto. We fight him. Not to mention the Avengers wouldn’t stand a chance against him anyway, they’re all metal. Not to mention that SHIELD has little involvement in the mutant rights program. Fury doesn’t seem to be trying, though.” Was her answer. She had been oddly upset about this.

“The Avengers are strong, powerful, and awesome, they’ve saved the world. They’re probably helping you in ways you don’t know of.” Logan had only laughed in reply and helped her continue moving.

She had been in the elevator with no buttons, and the white walls. When the doors opened into a wood hallway, Logan had asked Jean;  
“Do we have to take her to the Professor now? He has a class; I don’t want her getting too much attention.”

“Logan, she’ll be fine. I have to meet Scott; we’ll catch up with you two in the Professor’s office. I’m sure you can growl anyone who comes close enough to her to do anything. Not like giving you permission would’ve changed anything. Besides, if you wait, the hallway will be packed with kids, and that’ll be worse.” Turning to Zoe she added, “Logan will take good care of you, don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jean waved goodbye at the end of the hallway and turned the corner. Zoe, who at this point could stand by herself, looked up and down the corridor, and then tilted her head at Logan.

“What are you, five?”

“Sometimes,” Zoe answered matter-of-factly. “I think. Which way is the Professor’s office?”

Logan lit another cigar, rolling his eyes, and after puffing for a second actually held out his arm for her to grab onto. A surprised question on the tip of her tongue, the feral corrected himself by being a little shit again. “Shall we be off, your bitchiness?”

A bitchface worthy of her new title graced her features. “Just answer the question, asshole.”

“Mouth! There are kiddies around.” Starting to saunter down the hallway, Zoe quickly caught up.  
“So, in other words, you can be as big of a dick as you want, but if anyone else in this school, that I could say I was kidnapped to, by the way, touches me, they’ll get a claw to the hand?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” It hadn’t been a far walk when Logan turned to a door in the wall, next to a bookshelf. Opening the door and standing guard, obviously, next to it, he growled at the four teenagers inside. “Hey Wheels. Here she is.”

The Professor was half of what Zoe had been expecting. Bald, with brown eyes, and a kind face. Check. Wheelchair? Not so much. Clothing, tweed, check. A warm tingling, (no you perverts) at the base of her spine, sending cool tendrils of encouragement through her skull? Well. That was new.

“Logan, yes, thank you. Class dismissed.” The professor’s voice was warm, and cheerful.

“Hang on, you, cute chick, are you, are you the girl-” Logan’s growl interrupted the dark haired girl wearing a yellow t-shirt. She shot him a dark look. “Wolvie, chill out, I’m just asking questions.”

“I’m sorry children, but I promise, if she is feeling up to it, after we talk, you may meet her,” the Professor quieted them down. The girl groaned. The other two nodded and looked curiously at Zoe, while the third one just lounged in his chair.

“Can I at least get her name?” Yellow Tee questioned.

“Jubes, it’s okay. Let’s go.” A girl with long brown hair and white bangs put her gloved hand on Jubes’ arm. She also grabbed that of the boy next to her, one with bright blue eyes and light brown, slightly choppy, hair.

“It’s okay. I’m Zoe,” she said smiling shyly. Jubes laughed.

“She speaks! Hi, I’m Jubilee. This is Rogue, and Bobby, and that ass over there is John.”

“Hey!” A boy with slicked back brown hair, brown eyes, and a hoodie protested.

“Oh, shut up,” Jubilee said.

“You shut up, you annoying, pains-in-the-ass, and go. We have shit to do,” Logan called.

“Yo! What are you talking about annoying, Wolvie?”

“I rest my case.”

“Everyone, please, calm down. Jubilation, Rogue, John, and Bobby, please. Free period is next, go have fun.” Charles tried shooing them out.

“Yes, sir. C’mon, guys, let’s go.” Bobby shot an apologetic smile at Zoe.

“Spoilsport,” Jubilee murmured. “Come on, few more questions?”

“I will answer any questions you want,” Zoe started, trying to get everyone to obey Charles, who she could tell was getting more and more frustrated.

“See!” Jubilee exclaimed. Charles flashed Zoe an irritated look.

“Wait, let me finish. I’ll answer your questions, after, I talk with Charles.” She threw in a glare, just for good measure. Rogue and Bobby laughed, accompanied with an almost snort from John.

“We got another Scott on our hands, Logan? Cause if so, we need to be a bit more careful about our, ‘troublemaking ways’,” he said, looking carelessly at Charles from his chair near the wall.

“I like her, that answer your question?” John made a face.

“Now, people, get out, before I shove you out,” Zoe shouted impatiently, rubbing her forehead.

“Oh, touchy,” Bobby said, smiling. “Come on guys, let’s get out of their hair, she’s had a rough day, been unconscious for a few weeks. Sorry about that Zoe.” He added sheepishly, grabbing Jubilee’s arm, and pulled the two girls towards the door. “Pyro, come on.”

Jubilee started spewing protests, while John casually sauntered out.

“Thank you, I’m so sorry. The girls and John were caught putting pink hair dye in Dr. McCoy’s shampoo.” The Professor stated. Logan snorted. Shooting the feral a harsh look, who was still standing at the now closing door, the older man continued. “Anyway, please sit down. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Was a bit dizzy, but it’s passed now. Was I really broken up as they said?”

“It looked worse,” Charles chuckled humorlessly. “Logan carried you in the door, and rushed you downstairs, to the dismay of the eight or nine children who saw you and wanted to know what had happened. We couldn’t find out anything until you woke up, so I’m going to have Logan be a . . . a bodyguard of sorts. You’re going to be mobbed for a little while, until it calms down.”

“Okay. Thanks.” she glanced at Logan, nodding. “I-I don’t . . . really . . . remember anything, um. But they, uh, Logan and Jean say you’re a telepath. Could you . . . uh, could you help me remember?”

“Of course, I can, Zoe, but I warn you. If you want to remember, I’d be seeing all of your memories. It can be uncomfortable. Besides, from what Jean told me it all looks to be naturally repressed. They will, eventually, come back on their own. To retrieve them myself, it could be traumatizing. I would have to break the wall repressing them, at which point the memories could . . . all flood out too quickly, and potentially make you brain-dead. If not, they would just trickle out and we would’ve just put you in more harm, than necessary for something that would’ve happened on its own.”

“Yes sir. I just want to know.”

“Then the best thing to do is wait.” Zoe nodded slowly. “I do have questions for you, and if you have questions for me, by all means. You first?” The girl shook her head.

“No, you.” Charles smiled.

“It is alright to be open here, Zoe. Smile a bit. No one is going to hurt you here.” He comforted the raven-haired girl. She grinned, and chuckled nervously.

“Yes sir. I’m just, I just feel like, I’m supposed to feel uneasy. Like, I’ve been a situation like this before, I just don’t remember it.”

“Well, that’s something to work on. I promise you, we’re going to be working on getting to know you. Do you remember anything else? Any feelings? Can you try to remember?”

Zoe looked down at the desk, and thought wildly. Reaching into her mind, the first thing she could remember was cold and bright. The examination table. Wildly, she pushed further than that, desperate to remember something, to know. And passed out.

screamingshoutingrunningdarknesscoldpassing-throughhardwetred"look-out”"get-down”brightexplosionpanicmasspanicjumpinglookingbigshinyroarbiggreenmoreexplosions painpainpainpain

“Zoe? Ze, you okay? Please, Zoe, wake up!” Logan’s voice broke through the haze of grey mist over her eyes. She blinked a few times and she saw the outline of a large man kneeling over her. To her left was a, set of wheels? Her eyes started to focus more, and turning her head to the right a man with red shades came into view.

“Hey!” The man’s voice was relieved.

“Ze, you okay?” Logan asked.

Ze? Aw! Nicknames? Cute! Charles bit back a laugh. I guess he heard that.

“Yeah. I just . . . thought too hard? I guess? But I did get a few more memories. They were like flashes, really. Colors, pictures. A voice or two. It was really loud.”

“Well, if that’s what it takes to get you to remember when you force yourself, I think we can wait for them to come back. You were out for almost three minutes.” Wolverine’s voice was noticeably worried.

“Deal,” she said groaning, pulling herself up off the ground, and yelping when her side tinged.

“Need help?” The man with the sunglasses questioned. She shook her head. “I’m Scott, Jean’s fiancé.” Zoe nodded understandingly.

“Oh, okay. I heard about you.”

“By who? I assure you, the rumors aren’t true.” Zoe snickered.

“Well, since it Jean, I would assume the rumors are true. Then. . Um, John? Or Pyro, or something. Styled dark hair, troublemaker?”

“St. John Allerdyce. He likes to be called Pyro though. Because of his mutation. It explains itself.”

“Okay, enough with the buddy-buddy,” Logan growled. “Do you want to tell us what you saw, Ze?”

Never looking away from Logan, Zoe leaned closer to Scott. “He did say he didn’t like you.”

“Got that right.” Logan just gave him a bitchface.

“Anyway, um, Charles,” Zoe turned back to the desk and sat down again, next to Scott who sat down in the second chair, Jean, who had escaped Zoe’s notice, perched on the edge. “It was like . . . . . like a fight. It looked like a fight in a city. Like New York or Chicago, maybe L.A. With high rises. There were explosions, and it was loud. People were screaming and yelling, and there was something big and green, and . . . . and . . . pain.” All four of them exchanged looks. Scott stood up and started pacing.

“What? Do you know something?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you know the cities, it means we won’t have to teach you how to do things you’d need in everyday life.” Jean said positively.

“Other than that, it looks like you were in New York during the attack. A creature from outer space attacked New York City about a month ago, and the Avengers took care of it. Thor said it was from Vanaheim, a dragon. It is also the most likely explanation. It fits the time frame, and it is the closest destination. You are currently in Westchester.”

Sir, what does this mean?

I’m not sure Scott.

“That’s where the burns came from that you had when I found ya. They faded as you came in. You must have one hell of a healing factor.”

“So, let’s see. You don’t remember your name, but we’re going to call you Zoe,” Scott began nutshelling. “You were in NYC a month ago during the fight, and somehow you got injured and now you’re living with us.”

“Check, check. And I’m a mutant.”

“With a healing factor.” Jean added.

“There lies my next question.” Charles changed the topic of discussion. “It is easy to tell that you possess the X-gene. Do you know what that is?”

“A genetic trait that allows a mutant to naturally develop superhuman powers and abilities. Mutants are children that do not possess the same DNA as their parents. The X-gene can be traced through several generations without showing up.” Without taking a breath she went on. “Human mutants are considered to be of the subspecies Homo Sapiens Superior, an evolutionary progeny of Homo Sapiens, and are considered the next stage in human evolution. Mutants are born with the genetic potential to possess their powers, although the powers typically manifest at puberty.”

The room had frozen, and three pairs of eyes and a visor stared incomprehensibly at the girl.  
She grinned nervously.

“I know things. I think I was a science major or something at one point.”

“Okay, um. Then, uh. Anyway, what- hm.”

“I don’t think anyone expected that,” Logan said.

“You want to know my powers?” Zoe queried. “I’m not sure. I think it has something to do with my eyes, but, I’m not really sure.”

“Well, that should finish my questions for you. For the next week, we will just be helping you settle in, and search for any relatives you may have, which will be difficult. Not knowing name, age, or basically anything other than your location a month ago and your appearance won’t help. But until then, I will be here in case you need me. I can answer you physically or mentally, which ever you’re more comfortable with. I am confident Logan won’t leave your side.”  
“Scott and I will also be here to help you with whatever you need, sweetheart.”

“Thank you Jean, Scott, Charles, everyone. I am very appreciative of all you’ve done for me.”

“Of course.”

Logan walked over from his place by the door, and helped her up.

“Well, Ze? Ready to meet the rest of the family?”


	3. Another You, Another Me

Logan had quickly led her outside to a small greenhouse by the mansion. It was Zoe’s first sight of the sun in. . . she didn’t know how long. Wolverine took her on a small tour, being careful and wary that she shouldn’t be walking too much with her side. Zoe had seen the stables, and the pool, and now the greenhouse. She heard a few screams from some of the students, and some laughing. 

“Seems like school’s out.” 

Logan grunted noncommittally. He walked her through the rows of flowers and herbs which were spread in clumps of species. About halfway down the middle row was a small bench with little carvings of clouds and vines in the stone. 

“Here, sit. Do you think you’ll be okay if I go get us some lunch? I don’t want to introduce you to the SOBs just yet, you need rest. You can meet them in a few days.” 

“Sure. Thanks so much Logan, you’re a life saver. Literally,” she joked. Logan looked down self-consciously. He seemed unusually solemn. 

“It’s what any good person would’ve done. Do you remember being allergic to anything?” He added abruptly, eager to get off the topic. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Okay. If anyone else comes in here, tell ‘em to leave you alone, or else they’ll get adamantium up their ass.” Zoe nodded. 

“Is that what your claws are made of? It sounds familiar.” Logan grinned proudly. 

“Yep. The only other known form of it is in Captain America’s shield. But let me get you some lunch, then we’ll talk.” Logan left and Zoe raised an eyebrow. 

Damn that’s a fine ass. She thought. She brushed some black hair out of her face. Wonder if I’ll ever get to see it without the jeans. 

 

While Logan was getting a plate of chicken for himself and Zoe, Zoe had stood up, albeit shakily. She had walked down the rows to the rose bushes, and was smelling the different flowers. A tingling feeling came on her scalp. The hell?

“Who are you?” A voice demanded. Zoe shrieked, spun around and caught a glimpse of white hair. Then the dizziness came, and she passed out. 

warm-warm-comfy-”how-do-you-feel”-”perfect-you?”-”i’m-with-you-aren’t-i?”-love-perfection-warmth-yes-love-more-safe-yes-more-more-yes-no-no-what-damn-have-to-move

“HEY!” A voice jolted her out of her reverie, and she threw herself up to a sitting position. “Are you okay?” A woman with cocoa skin and white hair loomed over her. Her eyes were soft, and warm brown.

“I’m fine. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” She asked, shying away. 

“This is my greenhouse.” She said. “I’m Storm. 

"Oh. I think Logan said something about you," she told the weather goddess, relaxing. 

"You've met Logan?" Realization dawned on her face. "You're the girl he found a few weeks ago. I'm sorry, I didn’t introduce myself, I had a class. I'm Ororo Munroe, but they call me Storm."

"Why?" Storm raised her hand and a small cloud of water started pouring from the ceiling. The trail followed her hand around the greenhouse, watering the plants. 

"Whoa." 

Storm laughed. “That’s not all I can do, but that’s all I’ll do in here. I heard the boys were going to have a water balloon fight during lunch today, don’t want to rain on their parade. It’ll kind of defeat the purpose.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed. Storm offered a hand to Zoe and helped her up, leading her back to the bench. 

“What are you doing in here?” She asked suddenly. “Did Logan bring you?” 

“Yeah, he said he wanted to get away from “the SOBs” as he called them.” Storm laughed. 

“Mm hm, that’s what he calls the kids. Don’t let him fool you, though. He loves them half to death.” She helped lower Zoe to the bench. “I don’t usually let people in here, there have too many times kids have been in here and messed with my flowers, in more ways than one. But for you, I’ll make an exception.” 

“Thanks. I think I’ll be coming in here a lot. To try and remember.”

“It usually helps. It’s peaceful in here. Especially when it’s raining. Add in some music, and use the hammock over there, it’s the most relaxing place in the world.” 

“You seem to know a lot about the subject.”

“Well, it’s hard, working in a school with so many mutant children. It gets really frustrating, and so usually, you’ll find it start to rain. That’s when I come in here.” Zoe nodded. She thought she knew what Storm was talking about. Being frustrated. 

The door opened and Logan walked in carrying a plate ahead of him.

“Hey, Zoe, you -” He paused when he noticed the other woman on the bench. “Storm, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you, we’re using your greenhouse. It seemed the best place for her.” He added, motioning for them to scoot over.

“It is,” Storm assured him, pulling Zoe closer to her side. Logan put the plate on Zoe’s lap, with a firm hand paused next to it, to catch it if it fell. He rested the other hand behind her on the open bench again. “I don’t let anyone else in here, but Zoe is welcome to come in anytime she pleases. She also didn’t pick my flowers, so I’m happy to welcome her in.” The goddess teased. 

Zoe turned to Logan, and carefully chose her words, chewing on a piece of chicken. She had never really been one for small talk, especially not on important matters, or at least, she hadn’t since she woke up. She swallowed, and said; 

“I had another memory.” Logan’s head snapped to hers.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Zoe shook her head. Too personal. She remembered the feelings she had gotten from that most recent memory, and um. . . yeah. “We should at least tell the Professor then. Could help the search.” 

He went to set the plate on a nearby table, and Storm set a little tornado around it, incase they wanted to get it in a minute. Those hydrangeas were infested with bugs, but the matter wasn’t important enough to tell Logan. 

“Let me help. I can get her there easier,” Storm said, and put her hand over Logan’s. She stood and raised her arms. The greenhouse door flew open, and a huge gust of wind blew in. The sunlight darkened through the glass roof, and a few drops of rain pattered there. 

‘WAIT WAIT WAIT!” Zoe shouted. The wind died down, and Storm’s hair stopped blowing around her face. 

“What?” Logan grinned. “Nervous? I didn’t think you were afraid of heights.” 

“No.” Zoe lectured. “But wouldn’t it just be easier if I just talked telepathically, instead of blowing me down the hill? I don’t mind.” 

The other two mutants looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Duh. 

So, how do I do this? Zoe thought, closing her eyes. 

you just do. 

Zoe’s eyes sprung open. Logan leaned a bit closer. “You okay?” The dark-haired girl nodded, and took a deep breath. 

i am sorry. it can be a bit startling your first time. 

The mental conversation continued for several minutes while Zoe told Charles what she saw. Logan studied the mutant while she sat, wondering what she saw that she was afraid to tell him. Actually, it didn’t have to be scary. It could just be personal. It could be a guy. He could tell she wasn’t gay by the way she checked him out when they met. Mutants weren’t usually picky though. And they rarely judged. 

Zoe’s hair was black, with red-tinged tips. They looked natural, the color in her tips. The white color of her hair had faded since he picked her up in the snow, and so had the blue-green. Maybe an additional side effect of whatever mutation she had. She had looked kind-of punked out, actually. With her tattoos. He hadn’t seen much - shepherded out by Jeanie before he got too much. That just made him worry. 

He didn’t like this though. Talking to Charles, her eyes were closed, and he couldn’t see the beautiful green swirls. He had never seen her eyes until the moment in the lab. Whenever he had closed his own for the first few weeks, he could remember the sight. Blood poured out of her side, and the snow had turned scarlet in streaks. Her leg had been twisted at an awkward angle, and when he thought she was dead. A large gash on her cheek had been prominent when he got closer, but so had a faint heartbeat. 

He had gone to pick her up, and she had screamed in pain. Other than that she was unconscious. It had scared the hell out of him. Her eyes slammed open, full-blown pupils, where the green had faded past the point of a ring, and she had started shaking.

A nightmare. 

He had gotten her as quick as he could to the Med room, and Jeanie had stayed up for two days taking care of her. Logan had found her, and she was beautiful. A mutant, definitely, from the way she smelled, and they always take care of the family. 

Zoe’s eyes opened, and she smiled. “Alright, Charles is taking care of it.”

“Great!” Logan smiled. He always seemed to be doing that now. “You want the rest of th - Storm, why is there a tornado around the food?”

 

Slowly walking back from an afternoon in the greenhouse with Storm and Logan, Zoe grimaced. Sitting for that long hurt. Like hell. She had another feeling she didn’t sit nearly as often as she thought she did. But she wasn't one to complain. 

Or maybe she had just spent the last three weeks laying down, and that was why she hurt. 

It was way past dark, the two other mutants had insisted she didn’t face anyone from the school until she was strong enough to hold her own. 

Once Storm had left for her second class, Wolverine had continued the matter. 

‘These kids, well, some of them are dangerous, and others are just ‘still working on it’. You shouldn’t see them until you’re ready.’

Finally, she had relented, and now she was reaching the room she was going to be staying in for the next few weeks. After that, she could leave, and try and find her own way, or they could get another room for her. They were slowly running out of them, so she might have to roomie with someone else for a little while, but she’d have her own eventually. 

Little did she know she was already sharing. 

“Welcome to my room.” Logan said, gesturing around the huge space. Zoe jumped a bit, and her side stung. Ow. 

“What do you mean, your room?” 

“Well, out of the people qualified to watch over you, there’s me, and there’s Jean, but she’s already got a “bunk mate”, so . . . it’s me you’re stuck with.” said Logan.

“I wouldn’t say stuck with exactly. But are . . . are we sleeping in the same bed? There’s only one.” Logan froze as if her words were a horrible consequence. Ouch. She took offence.

“No. I’ve got the couch. It’s just so I’m close enough.” 

She nodded. “Okay. So like, guardian angel idea?” 

“Kinda. Protector I guess, yeah. Make sure if you need anything you don’t hafta get up and hurt yourself. But I don’t know about the whole angel thing, Ze.” Wolverine shrugged. He had opened the closet while she looked around the room, and reached up to the top shelf to pull out a sheet and a blanket. 

“Am I supposed to. . . just . . . sleep like this?” 

“Jeanie will be in soon, if she remembers, and I’ll have no problem breaking up whatever her and Scott are doing right now, so if she doesn’t that’s fine. I’m just getting some extra stuff incase ya need it. She’ll help you. To be honest I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.” 

Logan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His gaze seemed to go through everything in the room except for her. 

“Logan? Are you alright?” Zoe asked, shifting forward. She didn’t think she had ever really been a people person, and now it was becoming a bit clearer she wasn’t. 

“Yeah. Are you? I’m only good if you are.” He looked out of place with the sheets in his hands. 

She walked slowly toward him, her first time going anywhere without help and his face tightened. 

“I’m good. See? No hands!” She joked. 

“No need to be a bitch about it Zoe.” The mutant rolled her eyes and took the blankets out of his hands, trembling with the effort not to cry with all the pain in her side. The walk to the couch wasn’t too bad, but much worse than anything had been before. Damn she was heavy. But if she knew anything, which she didn’t, she didn’t show others her pain. 

Logan saw it anyway. Waiting until she dropped everything on the cushions, her bodyguard rushed towards her and grabbed her around the waist, keeping her steady. He pressed his chin into the back of her head, and she relaxed into the contact, breathing heavily from the strain. 

“I got it. You go get Jean. It’s late. We should both sleep, Logan.” She managed to say. 

“As soon as you’re sure you’re not gonna fall over if I let go.” 

“Maybe just a few more minutes.” 

“That’s what I thought.”


End file.
